As Mary's wedding neared Elizabeth spent more time with her sister trying to come to terms with her choice. She no longer allowed herself the pleasure of casting aspersions on her future brother-in-law but accepted it as something that would come to pass before the year was out. Resigned, she spent hours in her sister's room attaching ribbons and bits of lace to Mary's dresses--some of which she'd never worn...as being too fancy for her taste. At first Mary rejected any change in her appearance but Elizabeth soon convinced her that her husband with his important position in Kent deserved a wife who would make him proud and that it was her duty to please Lady Catherine. Mary could not argue Elizabeth's reasoning and allowed her hair to be cut and evened out. The sisters whiled away the hours with various attempts to manage Mary's straight hair into exotic styles that had both girls collapsing in gales of laughter at the comical results of their labor. But slowly another young woman began to emerge, a softer and prettier girl. Mary would never be a beauty but she was less plain and Elizabeth suspected that Mary enjoyed the change in her appearance.
Something remarkable began to happen once Elizabeth resigned herself to Mary's fate. Her introspection lessoned as she focused on her sister's future which to Elizabeth appeared to be be bleak indeed. She was elected as chaperon so followed the happy couple everywhere they went. Never once did she see even a sign of affection. They walked well away from each other and though she deliberately stayed close and endeavored to listen to their conversation she never once heard anything of a personal nature. Indeed, most of what she heard was from William Collins and it invariably had to do with his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh.
According to Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine took a prodigious amount of interest in the goings on of her village and in particular, the Hunsford Parsonage. She was even generous enough to edit his sermons so the peasants of the shire could better grasp the moral of his homily. There was absolutely nothing that escaped her attention from the shelves in the parsonage closet to the amount of ale a peasant should imbibe during the course of a week. The final straw was when Mr. Collins gave his patroness great praise as being a musical genius though Lady Catherine had never bothered to learn to play any instrument.
Elizabeth shook her head at this information. Lady Catherine sounded like a nosy windbag who could quickly stretch the patience of a sensible person. How Mr. Collins had managed to get such a rich position made more sense now. All one had to do was apply to the local seminary and hire the stupidest, most malleable student in the school. Elizabeth suspected that the peasants would be a lot happier under her ladyship's rule if they were dead drunk seven days a week. She shuddered to think of what the Sunday sermons must be like shut up in a stuffy chapel for two hours listening to a sermon written by a windbag and an idiot. And this was the man whom her sister was tying herself to for the rest of her life.
Elizabeth knew little of courtship. She couldn't remember ever seeing an engaged couple in the small town of Meryton. Most of the girls she knew were much younger than either Elizabeth or Jane. Jane's one and only courtship had taken place while Jane had been visiting the Gardiners in London when she was but sixteen. It hadn't lasted long once her suitor realized that her dowry was non-existent. Beyond the young farmers she had known all her life there were no eligible suitors as most of the younger sons left the area to seek their fortunes as soon as they reached their majority. The eldest son was left to carry on the management of the family estate whether he wanted to or not. There was only one estate in the area which had been vacant for the last three years and it was every mother's hope that a nice eligible man would eventually buy it and bring fresh blood to the area. So far their hopes had been in vain. Netherfield Park remained empty and in dire need of a handsome gentleman to take up residence. Mothers all around had their hopes raised several months earlier when word got out that two handsome young gentlemen had viewed the estate and had seemed very pleased, but it had all come to naught. They had never returned.
Elizabeth had never been in love. She doubted if she'd even recognize the feeling. The only romance she knew came from the novels she read between tomes of biographies, literature and history. In novels, the handsome hero always carried the heroine off in the last page but never mentioned what happened after the last page. What exactly married love entailed was left to her imagination based on what she knew of her parent's and their friend's marriages. There was of course the Gardiner's marriage but she feared that was the exception and not the rule.
As for the mechanics of married love, being a farmer's daughter she had seen the coupling of animals in the fields and sincerely hoped this was not in store for poor Mary. She tried not to think of their wedding night but black thoughts would intrude, mercifully fading at the moment Mr. Collins entered his bride's room, no doubt wearing a voluminous black nightshirt and wearing his parson's hat.
Eventually Mr. Collins left Hertfordshire to procure the necessary papers that would allow him to marry out of his own parish. And there were the legal papers setting out the terms of the marriage which would do very well for Mary. It was advised by Lady Catherine that the settlement be generous as she didn't hold with a wife who was at the mercy of her husband. This information made Elizabeth revise her opinion of Lady Catherine somewhat. Added to that if she delivered up a son she would be considered extremely well-off in comparison to the ladies in and around Meryton. For her own sanity Elizabeth had to look at the positive side of this union and not dwell on it's nightmarish aspects difficult as that was.
After Mr. Collin's departure Elizabeth and Mary spent more time together rekindling the earlier friendship they had enjoyed before Mary got religion. To Elizabeth's surprise she grew quite fond of her younger sister and prayed for her happiness. All things considered, there was a good chance that she would be reasonably happy with her own home, living with a man of means. She did not seem to recognize that the man was a hypocrite when it came to his ideas of what a clergyman should provide to his flock. Mary thought that all men were equal in the eyes of God. Mr. Collins agreed with the exception of the lower classes who had better not try to look higher.
A week before Christmas Jane and the Gardiners returned for the wedding and finally Elizabeth was able to walk into town for her own pleasure. The militia had finally arrived in the area and according to Lydia and Kitty, that were the handsomest men in the world. Elizabeth decided to check it out for herself.
When she reached Meryton she immediately headed for the bookstore and spent twenty minutes browsing through the new books and making her selections.
When she heard the shrill voice of her sister Lydia calling from half-way down the street her attention was drawn to the window. Elizabeth looked out and saw two officers standing just a few feet away. She recognized one of the officers as Lieutenant Denny an officer she had met a week earlier but the other was a stranger. Denny leaned close to this stranger and whispered something that seemed to amuse the stranger greatly and he whispered something back which caused both officers to laugh hardily. Elizabeth could of course not hear what they were saying but she suspected the worst as she saw the men exchange another sly look before stepping forward to greet Lydia and Kitty.
Elizabeth stepped back from the window and continued to browse ignoring the scene outside. She was mortified. Her aunt Gardiner had warned her about the rough ways of soldiers and seamen. It didn't matter whether they were officers or not. It was incumbent upon young ladies that their deportment be above reproach or they would be looked upon as fair game. Her sisters were acting like loose women. Their giddy laughter could be clearly heard in the shop. Elizabeth dared one more glance out the window and saw her sisters clutching the officer's arms as they made their way down to the other end of town. When she was sure she would be unobserved she left the shop and headed back to Longbourn as quickly as she could. She was on the verge of tears by the time she reached home.
She tore her hat off and went directly to her father's study and rapped loudly then entered without waiting for a reply. Mr. Bennet looked up in alarm seeing his favorite daughter in such a state. "My dear," he cried, "what is it? Are you hurt?"
Still out of breath from the hurried journey from town Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm well," she gasped. "It's my sisters who've undone me."
Mr. Bennet immediately relaxed. "Oh, those two. What have they done now?"
"They've have been doing a great impression of Kate Winslow," she spat.
Elizabeth's reference to the local prostitute shocked Mr. Bennet and his eyes flared wide. "Have a care, daughter."
"Forgive me, Papa, but you would be better advised to address your youngest daughters on having a care. Their comportment is scandalous. Screaming after the officers. Completely devoid of common manners. I was humiliated in town. And I can just imagine what those soldiers must think of those two. Oh, papa, I beg of you, please talk to them. Mama just encourages them. They will destroy us all. Jane and I have little enough to recommend us but to have two very silly sisters who throw themselves at every redcoat in town is agony."
Mr. Bennet listened attentively until Elizabeth lapsed into a disheartened silence. "My dear child, wherever you and Jane are known, you must be respected and valued and will not be seen at a disadvantage despite having two very silly sisters."
"No man in his right mind will connect themselves with a family whose daughters run wild; who run after every creature who wears long pants."
Mr Bennet laughed at the picture his favorite daughter was painting. Come now, Lizzy, no man in his right mind would take either of your younger sisters seriously. They are much too young and foolish."
Elizabeth was stunned. "Papa! Kitty is seventeen years old and Lydia is nearly sixteen. They are both of marriageable age. Can't you see how their deportment could effect their chances as well mine and Jane's?"
"What would you have me do, Lizzy? Lock them up until they can say something sensible during the course of a day?"
"That would be a start, Papa. Or at least you could stop laughing at their silliness and take them to task. They're loud and rude. Have you never noticed the way they barge right into an adult's conversation without a by your leave? How they monopolize the conversation with their talk of redcoats?"
"Lizzy, your mother runs the household. Speak to her."
"She won't listen to me. She's just as excited over the officers as Lydia and Kitty are. Besides, right now all she can think of is consigning her middle daughter to a life of misery and spending all our money to do so."
Mr. Bennet sighed heavily. "You begin to weary me, child. You've disturbed my peace long enough."
Elizabeth was shocked. "Is that all you can say, Papa? Have you not heard me?"
Her father opened his book and waved her away.
Dismissed, Elizabeth went to the door, then turned and gazed at this man she adored. The happiest days of her childhood had been spent in this very room with this man who had opened the world to her. For countless hours he had taught her to read and understand the meaning as well as the words. So many discussions, so many arguments, so much joy as she learned of the world beyond Meryton. She felt her heart break as she realized she didn't know him at all. He was a stranger to her.
Elizabeth was the only member of the Bennet family to weep openly as her sister Mary attached herself to William Collins in holy wedlock. She wasn't sure just who she was weeping for but she suspected it was for herself. She saw her future before her. Married to some idiot while her family and friends smiled and offered congratulations to her mother. She was right back where she was on her twentieth birthday. Deep into depression.
Her poor sister Mary was so moved by Elizabeth's tears, that she asked Mr. Collins and was granted permission for Elizabeth to visit their home in Kent in April. Hardly knowing what she was agreeing to, Elizabeth accepted the invitation. She really didn't care where she went as long as it was far away from Longbourn.
After the newlyweds left, the wedding party continued with the addition of the officers. Among the officers who straggled in over the course of the next two hours was the the young man she'd seen in town with Lieutenant Denny. Introductions were made and Elizabeth finally had her first good look at Lieutenant George Wickham. There had not been a day that went by without a mention of him by her sisters. They had described him as handsome and charming with gentlemanly manners. He was all of that.
His hair was the color of corn silk, his eyes of the palest blue. There was something angelic about his face and Elizabeth could well understand her younger sisters being smitten with him. In many ways he reminded her of her sister Jane; the same coloring, the same grace as he moved about the room.
Elizabeth had been standing alone near the edge of the room distancing herself from the rest of the party and had been watching him as unobtrusively as possible from the moment he had entered the room. When he finally made his way to her with Lydia clutching his arm possessively she acknowledge him with a brief smile. "I understand you hail from Derbyshire, Lieutenant Wickham."
"Indeed," he replied with a gentle smile. "I was born there on a beautiful estate and spent an idyllic childhood there."
"Do you get back there often?"
"Unfortunately, no. You see, Miss Bennet, my father was only the steward of Pemberley. Do you know Pemberley?"
"I think I might have heard of it recently from my new brother-in-law. His patroness is Lady Catherine De Bourgh who lives on an estate in Kent. Do you know her?"
"Indeed I do. She is the aunt of Fitzwilliam Darcy, the current master of Pemberley."
"I see."
"His father, who was my godfather and the best of men died several years ago. I have not been back to Pemberley since."
"The army keeps you busy, then."
"Uh, well not exactly, Miss Bennet,..."
Lieutenant Denny approached, "excuse us, Miss Bennet, but it's time we all return to camp."
"Ah, duty calls," said Wickham with a charming smile.
Elizabeth returned his smile and bid both officers goodbye with no regret. However, she noticed her sister Jane with a wistful smile on her face as she waved farewell to the gentlemen, in particular, Lieutenant Wickham. She looked radiant. "Jane," Elizabeth teased, "are you in love?"
Jane laughed, "not yet,Lizzy, but you must admit he is everything a young man ought to be. Sensible, good-humored and with such happy manners."
"He's handsome to be sure, but I'm not sure I can trust him."
"Whatever do you mean, Lizzy?"
Elizabeth described what she had seen in Meryton.
"Oh Lizzy, you admit you didn't hear what they said."
"I will admit it, Jane. But it left me uneasy. And a young man who leaves a lady feeling uneasy is not to be trusted. That's a rule I live by.
Elizabeth felt truly sorry for delivering this sad news to her sister but it was bad enough that her younger sisters wouldn't listen to reason, she certainly needed to warn Jane to be extra cautious around Mr. Wickham or any of the officers for that matter. She loved her sister dearly but Jane had not a cynical bone in her body which could be a dangerous weakness in such a beautiful woman.
It was times like this that she sorely missed Charlotte. Not even Jane could take the place of her best friend as a confidante. Charlotte would have been able to tease her out of the doldrums, might have even been able to convince her that the years ahead were not destined to be as bleak as she expected. After all, she had something to look forward to. The Gardiners had invited her to spend a month with them in London and she was to return with them after the Christmas festivities. Then, in the Spring, she would travel to Kent which held no contemplation of pleasure, but at least she would get away from Hertfordshire for another six weeks.
When she returned to her room later that evening, she resolved to think no more of the future but to let it unfold and make the most of it. With that resolve in mind, she fell into a deep sleep and shed not one tear.